


Forgotten Promises

by AidanChase



Series: That Good Good HP AU [3]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Dead Wives, Gen, Memory Loss, litte league quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:52:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase
Summary: There were things Magnus remembered from Hogwarts. Then there were things he forgot.Then there were things he remembered. And then there were things he forgot.





	Forgotten Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the third installment of this AU. The third tres horny boy and his life in the magical world. I hope you like it. I also hope you cry.

Magnus yawned and checked the pocket watch in his robes anxiously. Reports were his least favorite part of the job. He preferred actual fieldwork, but he’d been stuck at a desk these last few months.

He shouldn't complain; it was by his own request. He did this every summer, even though the best long term assignments were in the summer, just so he could stay home and coach a Little League Quidditch team.

Thirty minutes until he could go home. Thirty minutes until he met up with his kids for their final practice before the last game of the season. Thirty minutes was not enough time to get much of anything done, so he browsed the reports on his desk absentmindedly, making sure there was nothing pressing to take care of before the weekend.

Magnus stifled another yawn and stretched his large arms over his head. He always felt cramped here in these desks. The fourth floor wasn't that great in terms of space, but it offered more opportunities for work outside the office than any other, except perhaps Muggle Liason, but Magnus didn't do well when it came to diplomacy with people. He preferred animals.

He also didn't use magic anymore, and Muggle Liason required a skill with Memory Modification Charms. Magnus didn't have that skill set, nor much of any magical skill set, which is why when the memo requesting his presence in the Department of Mysteries came through, he thought it was a joke. In fact, Magnus might have ignored it if it hadn't been sealed with the Minister of Magic’s crest and her distinct signature at the bottom. Magnus didn't get letters from her often, but she had been the one to give him this job, so he knew her handwriting.

Magnus double-checked the time, prayed this wouldn't take long, and locked up his desk. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the elevator, taking it all the way down, past the Atrium, to the Department of Mysteries. As he stepped out on the Ninth Level, a wizard in a flashy hat and robes stepped into the elevator.

“Heading out early?” Magnus asked with a friendly smile.

It was returned with a disdainful look that turned into a puzzled frown as the golden gate closed between them.

Magnus didn't know why he expected anyone down here to have decent manners. Everyone in the Department of Mysteries was secretive and rude. But he shrugged it off and started down the stone corridor. The walls were black where the torches burned, and the rest was a hazy gray. There were definitely downsides to having the Ministry of Magic underground.

“Hello? Anyone here? Minister?” But only his own voice echoed back. “I don't have clearance to be down here but I have this memo, uh… Is anyone here?”

Another set of footsteps echoed down the corridor, coming towards him.

“Hello!” Magnus called, a little more confidently.

The young man that came down the hall was someone Magnus had only seen in passing, dressed in a pastel cap and robes with a feather sticking out of the top of his hat.

“Oh, hey, Magnus.”

Magnus squinted in the dim light, but he couldn't get a clearer picture of the wizard's face. “Hey, uhh…”

“Johann. We haven't met yet, but the Minister said to send for you.”

“Yeah, is it going to be quick? Because, uh, it’s the weekend, and I can't stay late.”

“I dunno. I’ve never seen something like this before. The Minister said you might know what to do, though.”

Magnus thought that was a terrifying thing for someone from the Department of Mysteries to say, and he hoped it had nothing to do with spiders.

Johann led Magnus further down the corridor into a circular room. Ten identical doors surrounded them, and as soon as they stepped inside, the doors began to spin. As they slowed to a stop, Magnus realized he would have no idea how to get out of here without Johann’s help.

“It’s just a security precaution,” Johann said in a slow drawl. He waved his wand and a door to their right swung open.

Magnus followed close at Johann’s heels. The room they walked into was circular, like the one they had just come from, but much wider. In the middle was a tall, cylindrical tank, filled with a pale bluish fluid. At the bottom was a dome shape, with purple and black swirling like poorly mixed paint. Dim stars flickered in the colors. Faint, weak, Magnus thought, though he did not know why because he had never seen anything like this before.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “What is it? Or is that classified?”

“Well — I can't tell you what it is. But it’s sick.”

“Sick?” Magnus squinted at the stars. He had not thought the vision he was seeing was alive in anyway. It looked like nothing more than a magical spell, some object charmed to look like the sky, nothing particularly different from the charm in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. 

“It’s never been like this before. I tried feeding it, but it won’t eat anything.”

Magnus stepped closer to the tank. Now he began to see a rhythm in the blinking of the stars. It was not as steady as breathing, but there was a pattern to it all the same.

“I’ve never seen anything like this either,” Magnus said. “Why does the Minister think I can help it?”

Johann shrugged. “I didn't ask her. You work with magical creatures, though.”

That was like saying anyone who specialized in Transfiguration knew how to become an Animagus. There were always field specializations and you couldn't be an expert in everything. Why did the Minister think he could help a creature he knew nothing about?

Magnus checked his watch. He could stay a little later, if he didn't go home before Quidditch practice. “Can I get in there and look at it?”

“I don't think you have clearance for that.”

“Well, I don't know what I can do for it out here.” Magnus knelt next to the glass. He searched the creature for any sort of face but he didn't see one. He wondered if it could see him.

“Isn't there like magic for this stuff?”

If it required magic, the Minister would not have asked it of him. But Magnus wasn't going to explain this to Johann, so he only said, “Nope.”

“I can talk to the director this weekend, see if I can get you clearance. But no one who’s not cleared is allowed to touch the stuff inside the tank.”

Magnus frowned. Every creature was unique, with its own needs, but this was unlike any creature Magnus had ever come across. Without the ability to get into the tank and examine the creature, there was very little he could do.

He looked around the room, but there was nothing more than a desk with parchment, ink, and a small lyre on it. 

“Do you have any sort of record of its anatomy, or like, notes on what it's supposed to be like?” asked Magnus.

“It’s the only one I’ve ever heard of before,” Johann said. “It’s usually floating in the middle of its tank, though, not sunk at the bottom. It like, spins and stuff, usually.”

Magnus put his hand on the glass. He did not know if the creature inside could hear him, but he said, “Can you wait a weekend, buddy? You gonna be okay for that long?”

The stars moved. The purple swirled and Magnus saw tentacles moving beneath the sky-like dome. One of the spindly tendrils rested against the glass where his hand was. Music emanated from the glass, and he felt its vibrations in the palm of his hand.

“What’s it saying?” Magnus asked Johann. “Does it communicate like this?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen. Weird. Usually it just eats whatever I feed it.”

“What do you feed it?”

“Musical compositions.”

“And it lives on that?”

“Yeah. But this isn't one of mine.” Johann frowned at the creature. “It’s composing its own song, I think.” He walked over to his desk and picked up the lyre. He took a moment tuning it, then repeated the notes the creature had just sang. The creature sang again, and as it and Johann started a duet, Magnus noticed the dull stars grow brighter. He took that as a good sign. Luminescence seemed to mean energy for this creature. The word that came to Magnus’s mind as he listened to the song was “urgent” and he didn't know why.

Johann played the creature’s song for a few more measures then looked at the fish. “Well it seems okay. I’ll ask if you can get in there and look on Monday, if you want, but I think it’ll be fine for the weekend.”

Magnus frowned as the creature’s stars returned to the dimness they had held when Magnus had walked in. The fish seemed to resettle in the bottom of the tank while emitting a single low note. Magnus wished there was something he could do, but Johann was already picking up his wand and waving it to turn out the lights. His brief examination of the fish was over.

“Got weekend plans?” Johann asked.

“Yeah, the kids have their last Quidditch game of the season tomorrow. We’re gonna run a couple drills tonight.”

“Oh you have kids?”

Magnus tried to laugh but he could not quite make his chest move in the right way. “No, I just coach them. What about you? Big weekend yourself?”

“Probably just play some new compositions for people. It doesn't really matter, I guess. They’ll all be forgotten on Monday.”

“Dude. Lighten up like, a little. I’m sure your stuff isn't that bad.” Magnus had never heard Johann play, but he couldn't imagine Johann had a job as a composer if he wasn't any good.

“Nah, it’s not bad,” Johann said, with a wistfulness that made it sound like was going to say more, but he didn't. He sighed and led Magnus back into the circular room. As before, the doors spun quickly and Magnus could no longer tell where they had come from and he certainly had no idea where he needed to go.

Johann waved his wand and a door right in front of them opened. He led Magnus through it and into the elevator.

One stop later they were at the Atrium. It was fairly empty, only the last of the evening crowd making their way home for the weekend. Magnus said a polite goodbye to Johann and got in line for the Floo to head home. 

As Magnus stepped through the Floo and out to the Apparition point, he was met with the loud pops and cracks of his co-workers heading off to their homes for the evening. Magnus started walking to the corner and down to the Underground. He checked his watch. There was still time to stop at home and get a bite to eat before practice, but he would have to be quick.

For the entire train ride, Magnus’s thoughts turned to the creature he had seen in the tank. He wanted to know more about it, where it was from, what it liked and didn’t like, everything. He had such a fondness for all magical Beasts and Beings. This strange fish creature was new and thrilling to him, and he was so concerned for its wellbeing.

After twenty minutes on the tube and a ten minute walk, Magnus reached his small, empty flat. He dropped his keys on the table and gently tapped the picture frame. In the picture was a young girl, perhaps ten years younger than Magnus was now, laughing as she tucked hair behind her ear. Her plain wedding band glinted on her finger as she moved. Julia had been so fascinated by wizard pictures that Magnus had thought he might go into photography as a profession. That, though, had been a short lived dream, like so many others.

He helped himself to a plate of cold potatoes and asparagus. The flat had a microwave, so warming his food without magic was an option, but Magnus didn’t bother. As soon as his food was finished, he dropped the plate into the sink with all the other dirty plates, retrieved his keys, and was out the door.

It was not a long trip to Quidditch practice. Cities were not great places to practice Quidditch, but Magnus managed to secure an empty warehouse on the edges of downtown each summer for the kids to practice in without concern for Muggle-onlookers. It wasn’t the same as practicing in an open field, it was hot as hell, and one time they did lose a Snitch out the fan vent, but it was enough just to get the kids on their brooms and laughing with each other.

Practice today was light, a lot of reviewing the plays the kids were most comfortable with, and making sure they were ready for the game on Saturday morning. Their team was never the best team in the league, but Magnus always thought his team played with the most heart. He loved his kids as if they were his own, and, as much as he loved his job and working with animals the rest of the year, summers were the highlight of his life.

Despite how much Magnus loved his kids and loved Quidditch, his mind could not stop turning to the creature in the tank. He worried about it, more than he’d worried about anything since the time Gerald got food poisoning right before the championship game. Even Timmy noticed how distracted Magnus was.

“Coach, you okay?” the Beater asked as he came down low to knock a Bludger back into the pitch.

“Fine — watch where you swing that you almost hit your Seeker.”

“Sorry, Deborah!” Timmy shouted, then shot back into the fray.

Magnus sat down on the bench and tried to focus on his Chasers’ passing pattern. He’d gotten good at observing his kids from the ground, but his mind just wasn’t here at practice. He couldn’t pass his whole weekend like this. There was nothing for it. Magnus would just have to go back tonight.

After Magnus made sure the last of the kids was returned safely to a responsible guardian, he started back for the Underground, but he did not go home. Instead, he returned to the Ministry of Magic.

It was empty at this time of night. A bored security guard in blue robes glanced up at Magnus as Magnus flashed his Ministry ID badge, but said nothing more than a grunt that could have been a, “Good evening.”

There was no one in the elevator to question why Magnus was going down to the Department of Mysteries, and there was no one in the Department of Mysteries to stop him once he was there. Magnus walked down the corridor and into the circular chamber with all the doors. He paused here. He had not considered how he would get through these doors and into the chamber with the fish.

His hesitance did not matter, though, because as soon as the door behind him clicked shut, the doors began to spin. Within a minute, Magnus was completely disoriented. He resolved that whether he found the fish first or the exit first, he would simply take what he was given.

The first door Magnus opened, however, proved to be neither. He saw a corridor of glowing crystal orbs that were entirely unfamiliar. He supposed most things in the Department of Mysteries would be unfamiliar to him.

Magnus closed the door and again, the room began to spin. Once the doors stopped, he selected one at random. They all looked identical. He supposed, in theory, he could keep trying doors until someone came in on Monday and found him, but he hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

The second door opened up into a large chamber with a floor that dropped out after only a step inside. There were stairs leading down, but they were easy to miss. If Magnus had simply been walking in, he would have fallen to his death. But the floor wasn’t the interesting thing about this room. In the center stood an archway with a gray curtain, moving as if there was a steady breeze, but Magnus felt no movement in the air. He could hear the wind, though — no, it was not wind at all, but whispers. Magnus did not want to get himself stuck in this room, but he leaned closer, trying to listen to what the whispers were saying. It was a woman’s familiar voice, and….

No, Magnus needed to find the fish. He returned to the central chamber. The doors spun again and this time Magnus looked into a room of glowing jars full of brains. He shut that door quickly.

After another round, Magnus found the door to the glowing crystal orbs again, and he closed it irritably. But after one more spin, he finally selected the right door.

The fish was still in its tank, resting at the bottom. It was not singing anymore, and its stars still looked dim, twinkling faintly. There was no other source of light down here now, and Magnus found himself wishing he had taken a torch from the hallway.

But the fish provided enough light within the tank that Magnus would be able to work. The real trick was going to be getting inside the tank.

Magnus touched the glass gently, careful not to create a sound that would echo inside the chamber. The fish still noticed his presence, or he guessed it did by the way the stars brightened as he touched the glass. He wondered how it sensed the world around it. Did it have scent or sight? He did not see any features that looked like a face. The tentacles did not search out sensation the way he had seen some creatures do. It just simply seemed aware of him.

Magnus walked around the tank, and, to his relief, found a metal ladder affixed to the back of it. He began to climb. As he did, the fish left its spot at the bottom of the tank and moved with him, so that when he arrived at the top, it was there too.

The top of the tank was sealed shut, and Magnus wondered how this fish breathed if there was no air flowing in the water. Perhaps it did not need to breathe, though he was not sure he had ever met a magical creature that did not need some sort of respiration. Perhaps undead ones, but this fish did not strike him as undead.

He worried that the hatch on top of the tank would be sealed by magic, but when he pulled on the handle, it opened. Not easily — it was very heavy — but Magnus was strong, and it clanged back against the top of the hatch. Now that Magnus could see inside the tank, he noticed that the water inside was not water at all. He stuck his hand towards it, brushing the edges of the liquid with his fingers. It was thicker, and had an iridescent hue to it. As his fingers touched the liquid, the fish inside also reached a tentacle out to him.

“You okay if I get in there with you?” Magnus asked.

The fish spun in a lively twirl that surprised Magnus, given how lethargic it had been before now. It seemed surprisingly friendly and sociable for a fish.

Magnus stripped off his clothes and his boots, setting them on top of the tank, where they would hopefully stay safe and dry while he investigated the fish. He double-checked the hatch, making sure there was no possibility of it accidentally closing on him, then jumped into the tank.

There was just enough space at the top of the tank for Magnus to lift his head for air. He held himself afloat there, waiting for the fish to react to him. It sunk a little lower, to avoid his feet, and spun around again. The note it sang was high and cheerful. Magnus took a deep breath and went to meet it.

Usually when Magnus first met a creature, he had to take time earning its trust before it would allow him to get close. This fish did not seem shy nor wary around him. It let him touch and examine its tentacles. It let him run his hands along its bell. He could not find any sort of injury or wound to the fish, nor any point of pain as the fish moved and swam with him.

After a short search, Magnus went up for air. Before he could consider the next step in checking out the health of this fish, he tasted something metallic but salty. It was not much more than a drop of the liquid he had been swimming in, but with it came a sudden headache so all-consuming, he forgot to tread water. He clutched his hands to his head as he sank below the surface and his vision seemed to go white.

*~*~*~*~*

There were things Magnus remembered from Hogwarts. Then there were things he forgot. Then there were things he remembered. And then there were things he forgot.

*~*~*~*~*

Magnus remembered his Care of Magical Creatures classes. He loved working with animals. He loved exploring the Forbidden Forest. He loved playing Quidditch. He loved being out of doors. He was very good at Charms. He had the most powerful Shield Charm in his class, and his Defense Against the Dark Arts marks were always high, especially when it came to fighting Dark Creatures.

He had forgotten that he was not alone in these adventures. He forgot that he had friends in school, good friends. He forgot that the star Chaser of his Quidditch team was one of his best and dearest friends, and her name was —

He had forgotten what they had found in the Black Lake. He forgot the strange creature that had fallen from the stars, that he had loved, that had loved him.

He had forgotten that these friends had done something terrible. They’d been young, they’d been naive, they’d wanted to help, but they had done something terrible.

He remembered, now, why they’d made their choice. Their magical world had been consumed in war, and they’d wanted to fight — no, they’d wanted to end the fighting. They wanted the war to be over, for the monster that ate magic to die, and they’d built a plan to fight back. Their plan had worked — the monster went away, never to be seen again, but what they had created was no better than the monster. What they had created consumed their world fully in a new war.

All of this, at once, Magus remembered. The war, the smiling faces of his friends in school, in reds and blues, greens and yellows, friendships that crossed houses, bonds that disregarded differences, and instead relished the time they spent together, the joy in learning together, and the love of everything they created together.

And then, almost as quickly as he remembered his friends and what they had done, Magnus forgot them.

*~*~*~*~*

Magnus woke up with a pounding headache. He was in his own flat, lying on his own bed, which he thought was odd, since more often than not he slept on the couch.

He remembered that he had gone to see the fish. He had gotten in its tank. He had remembered something suddenly, and he had nearly drowned.

Magnus remembered a war. He remembered a war for magical artifacts that promised the wielder power beyond their wildest dreams. Power to control the magical world in a way no one else could. It had gone on for years, for almost the entirety of his adulthood. How could he have forgotten it?

Magnus got out of bed and saw he was partially dressed. Only his nightclothes. How had he gotten here? And who had dressed him?

He stepped around the false wall that separated his bedroom from his living quarters and saw someone sitting at the table in the kitchen. She was wearing blue and white witch’s robes, and had her hands wrapped around a mug. It was one of the ones Julia had made, with an uneven surface and a warped handle. She and Magnus had tried pottery together, but neither had gotten very good at it.

“Uh — Minister?” Magnus asked. “What are you… doing here?”

She did not look up from the mug. “I should fire you, you know.”

Magnus did his best to look sheepish. “You know… you did ask me to look after the fish. I couldn’t just leave it in misery all weekend.”

Her hands tightened around the mug. “I was very clear with Johann. You were not to get in the tank, you were not to get too close to the fish, I just thought… I thought you could cheer it up.”

“Well, I did do that. It certainly liked when I got in the tank with it.”

“What did you see, Magnus?” And now she looked up at him. The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes were tight and her lips thin. “Tell me what you saw.”

Magnus took the mug he had made from the sink, rinsed it out, and filled it with hot water. He took a sip of the water, hoping the warmth might clear his headache. It did not.

“I remembered the war,” he said in a quiet voice. “How could I have forgotten it? No — it wasn’t just me that forgot, was it?” Because surely his co-workers, the families whose children were on his Quidditch team, surely they also did not remember the war, had not ever tried to bring it up to Magnus or each other. This was not some game everyone else knew how to play except Magnus; this was a game only the Minister of Magic was playing. “Is that how you came to power?” he asked. “Have you used one of these relics to control us, make us forget?”

“No, Magnus, no.” She motioned to the empty chair across from her, silently asking him to sit. “It’s the opposite. I want to destroy the relics that wracked our world with war.”

Magnus took his mug of hot water and sat at the small kitchen table. “Why do I remember it now? And why are you here? How did you know where I was?”

The Minister of Magic took a deep breath, then sipped at her tea. “It’s a bit of a long story. I’ll have to start at the beginning.

“You remember how the war for the relics destroyed so much of our world, how the Ministry was powerless against the desire for the relics, how power changed hands daily and countless lives were lost — Muggles, wizards, witches, children. To end the destruction, I had to make the world forget. I had to, Magnus, to end the fighting.

“The fish you met, we call it the Void Fish. Only a handful of members in the Department of Mysteries are aware it exists. When it is fed information, that information is erased from the world, unless you’ve been inoculated with the liquid from the Void Fish’s tank, as I have been, as Johann has been, as you accidentally were.

“When I became Minister of Magic, I sought to destroy these relics, to end this war. The Void Fish allows me to do that, and, Magnus, I would be so glad of your help in this.”

Magnus took a moment to drink in her words. It sounded noble. It sounded like something he would do, take on the world’s burden to protect what he loved. But something did not sit right in his chest.

“Does helping you require magic?”

The Minister wiped a tear from her cheek. “Tell me why you don't use magic.”

“I haven't used magic since I graduated from school. I mean, a little bit, but I really wasn't good. And then when Julia…. We talked about this. My magic doesn't work anymore.”

The Minister took another sip of her tea. “I’ve looked up your scores from school. You scored Outstanding on your Defense and Charms exams; you were Acceptable in Transfiguration and Exceeds Expectations in Herbology. But you tell me you weren't any good?”

“Listen, maybe I’m just good at tests? I can't tell you why I’m no good now.” Magnus did not like talking about why he could not use magic. It was not a comfortable feeling to discuss something so deeply personal, especially when he did not entirely understand it himself. “You still haven't told me how you found me,” he said. 

“You can imagine keeping an entire war a secret is not an easy task, even with the aid of a magical, information eating fish. There are alarms for this sort of thing. You’re very lucky I was working late. Otherwise, you might have drowned. Or even if you hadn't, the information could have killed you — it’s so much, all at once. You’re very lucky I was working late,” she said again, quieter this time. “I really should fire you.”

The Minister took another sip of her tea. She looked like she was bracing herself, but she didn't know for what.

“Well, Magnus,” she said in a quiet voice, “how would you like to join the Department of Mysteries?”


End file.
